The Iron Curtain
by Siontix
Summary: The Axis has fallen, and the Allies have pulled through the darkness of World War II. But alas, they aren't done yet, as Russia, his companions, and his newly acquired soviet satellites join him in his own alliance-the Warsaw Pact. Meanwhile, in Asia, North Korea threatens South Korea and his beloved garden as hostilities reach a new maximum. And thus, the Iron Curtain has fallen.
1. Chapter 1

==Chapter 1=

World War II had come to a close; the Axis powers had climbed to a near victory over the Allies, but alas, fell to Russia's unnatural strength, America's extreme patriotic personality, and England's strategic planning. The major Axis powers of Germany, Italy, and Japan lay defeated, but united with their former enemies.

Russia and his soviet allies have seized much of Europe and Asia, and now desires to spread the word of communism to the rest of the world. America—through a mix of egotism and patriotism—opposes the idea of a communist world order, and has thus remained aligned with his former Allies. The two now exchange hostile words more often than with Germany in World War II.

On the other side of the globe, China had declared himself the leading superpower of Asia, and has aligned himself with North Korea. The slightly older brother of North Korea—South Korea—stands his ground with America holding his shoulder from a distance. Even when surrounded by hateful neighbors, South Korea finds himself proud to call himself an existing independent nation once more.

The grass of the Korean homestead moved gently with the wind, as did the brown hair of South Korea. The young man was outside of his large temple styled house watering his garden. He did so with great passion. His garden was comprised of the hot pink Jindallae, the pale pink Mugunghwa, and the common Rose. The sun perfectly shined down upon the garden, giving the perfect amount of daily light. His care for the garden was immense enough to the point where he would fret about forgetting to water them. Perhaps one would view this as an out of character hobby for a man, but South Korea was proud to consider himself one of the greatest gardeners in Asia.

Across from his home, was his dear brother. North Korea stood before his own garden, both crushed and infuriated. Unlike his brother's yard, his grass was pale, leveled, and dry. The same could be said for his garden—a graveyard for things meant to be beautiful.

North Korea's attire was comprised of a brownish-green uniform, black jackboots, black leather gloves, and shiny red star pin near his left breast. The man slowly narrowed his eyes at the dead garden—growing resentful from the sound of his much happier brother humming a joyful tune aloud.

"He indirectly boasts about his great garden and lawn, despite how hard I try myself..." he growled to himself.

After sighing, North Korea raised his head up and lowered his eyebrows in great frustration. Behind his house, massive mountains forbid the sun from shining down on his property for long. And on the other side, South Korea's temple disallowed for sunshine to come from the south. Ultimately, his yard was doomed to receive nothing but dark shade.

North Korea momentarily spun around to face his brother's yard, but only became more furious at the sight of the white and blue robed man. His crimson colored eyes disappeared as his eyelids shut, and his white teeth continued to grind in a mix of envy and hatred. Even for a brother, there was much hatred. Perhaps North Korea didn't want to see his brother perish, however, he did wish for him to feel the same pain that he was feeling. In his mind, North Korea should have been the only Korea, while his brother faded out of existence like many other ancient countries. Everything that South Korea owned, North Korea felt rightfully belonged to him. This included South Korea's pride and joy of a garden.

Having had enough of the joyful humming, North Korea growled and knelt down. He grabbed a fairly large stone and threw it into the air to catch it. While tossing the stone up constantly, North Korea made his way over towards his brother's yard.

South Korea stood up with a bright smile and wiped his forehead, "I should make some room to plant some Dumortiers..."

Just before turning his head, an abrupt amount of pain had been received. North Korea had fired the stone through the air like a dart with the successful attempt to strike South Korea across the head. He fell back about a meter whilst rubbing his forehead, only to find a stone now lying on the ground.

"Wh- what the-" He looked up and grunted in shock, North Korea stood chuckling pridefully with another stone in his hand. "B- brother, what are you doing!?"

Followed by a devilish laugh, another rock was fired towards South Korea. He gasped and ducked down, then found another stone coming at him. This one hit him on the shoulder.

"Stop! What's the matter with you!?"

North Korea chucked another stone, "Kneel before True Korea!"

South Korea quickly ducked and held up his watering pot, he proceeded to use this as a shield. The next wave of stones were all blocked by the pot, though North Korea continued to laugh. South Korea gritted his teeth and glared.

"Have you lost your marbles!?"

Finally, his younger brother ceased the chucking. Both Koreans looked each other in the eyes. North Korea stomped his foot down and forced his clenched fist forward, "I've had enough of you! Leave this place for good, or I'll take it from you!"

"Lea- leave my own house!?"

"_My_ house! All of this land belongs to me, True Korea!"

Another stone was chucked, but South Korea blocked this one as well. He lowered the pot again and gave his brother an overly concerned look, "Mr. Russia gave you more than enough land!"

Whilst tossing a stone up in the air constantly, North Korea fired back a hostile quirked mouth, "I was cheated in the deal, the land I received sucks. You were given the best location, _despite_ the fact that Russia did all the work in freeing us."

"America-"

North Korea hissed at the name and crossed his arms, "I do not recognize that pig as a country."

South Korea lowered his watering pot even more, then smirked, "Well, say what you may believe to be true, this is _my_ property. I'm not leaving my home."

The younger brother snarled, then grinned almost evilly and shrugged. He scratched his throat and chuckled, "Oh well! Guess we'll do this the hard way..."

Before a response could be given, another stone was sent straight to South Korea's forehead. This hit knocked him down, where he was then issued a barrage of stones. Whilst getting hit, South Korea grunted and gritted his teeth constantly.

"Wh- where are you getting all of these stones from, brother!?"

"Surrender your home to me!" He ceased throwing for a moment to lower his eyelids with a mocking smile, "Or do I need to threaten you with an AK47?"

South Korea leapt up onto his feet and quickly began to retreat, but not before grabbing his watering pot. "Okay! Okay! I'm going inside!"

"No, I said surrender your home to True Korea!"

More stones were chucked towards the older brother, who resumed protecting himself with the watering pot. Despite the clear amount of superior intimidation that North Korea offered, South Korea wasn't going to simply let him do as he wished. He quickly retreated up to the temple door with a glare.

"I'm going to stay inside until whatever alcohol is present in your body disappears!" he said before slamming the door.

North Korea listened closely, then heard the door lock behind South Korea. The communist closed his eyes and chuckled loudly, then took aim at one of the temple windows.

"No problem. I am restless! I will stand here all day and night if I have to!"

He chucked a stone straight through one of the windows, easily placing a hole the size of a baseball into it. South Korea gasped and appeared behind the window holding his head in disbelief.

"Th- that's going to cost me nearly thirty-two thousand Wons!"

"No! It's going to cost _me_ thirty-two thousand True Korea Wons!"

Another stone was sent through a window. In horror, South Korea dropped down onto the floor and reached for his telephone. Without hesitation, he dialed up America—desperately in need of support. As a consistent amount of stones continued to fly into his temple and fall onto the floor, South Korea trembled. The phone rang, but America didn't answer.

"O-oh, pick up, pick up!" Another stone flew in, this one hitting a commemorative plate and shattering it. South Korea cringed and slammed his eyes shut. "Dammit, where are you!? Pick up!"

"Alright, dudes! It's time for yet another one of my famous all American meetings!" America cheered loudly.

Sitting beside France at the NATO round table, England grasped his forehead in clear irritation, "The only bloody American in this room is you..."

Canada lowered his eyebrows nervously and raised his trembling hand, "A- actually, I'm from North America, in case you've forgotten..." he argued in a whispering tone.

America proudly swat his fists against his waist and laughed at England, "In case you've forgotten, _I_, America, just won _another_ World War by myself! So, henceforth, I think it's only fair that I assume leadership in this killa' mega sized alliance!"

"Yes, of course, what on Earth was I thinking..?" England muttered sarcastically.

France shook negatively, "I'd like to think I won that first World War on my own accord..."

America spun back around and laughed, "Yo, if it weren't for me, you'd _all_ be speaking German right now!"

The entire room was suddenly alarmed as a fist came striking down. Germany's sapphire eyes met with America's as he growled.

"I am sick of this preposterous claim! For the last time, we were not a multicultural empire, we would _never_, ever, have suggested assimilating cultures of the world into our own!"

Italy pat Germany's back with a great big smile, "Axis buddies for life!"

America dipped his head down with a grin, then turned towards the drawing board that was in front of the room. "It's okay, Germany, my man! We've all had our times of evilness..." he lowered his eyelids and puckered his lips, "...except for me!"

France punched England by the arm and puckered his lips, "No one is more evil than this guy! Who hasn't he been at war with in the past?"

America raised his finger, "Belarus. That's about all that comes to mind."

With great fury, England slammed his fist down, "Oh, shut up and start the meeting!"

"Can't start the meeting if I shut up!" England lowered his eyelids while America laughed obnoxiously loud.

All NATO members remained silent as America laughed. Germany groaned and hit his forehead against the table while hyperventilating. "This is just a dream, this is just a dream..."

Italy grabbed his hand excitedly, "Nope! It's reality! We're all friends again!"

Germany raised his head slightly, but still found that America was laughing, "I feel as though I've been forced into a fan club of idiots. You never realize what you had until it's gone..."

Japan leaned forward and raised his eyebrows at Germany, "It is alright, Mr. Germany. I find America annoying as well."

"Wait, Japan? You're not part of NATO..."

"Aye, but I am an ally."

Germany sat back up straight and sighed, "Well, at least it can't get any worse..." he closed his eyes and face palmed, "Aside from the fact that America and Russia possess atomic bombs capable of destroying an entire nation..."

America shot his hands up into the air excitedly, "Alright! Now, time for a recap!"

He removed a blank white sheet from the drawing board and beamed at the drawings. Everyone in the conference room gasped in shock at the contents. England was the first one to express a negative reaction, as he widened his eyes and pointed at the board.

"Wh- wh- what the bloody Hell are _those_?"

America raised an eyebrow, "Um-m, drawings, obviously."

The room remained silent for a few moments, France slowly raised an appalled eyebrow and cleared his throat, "Those? Those are drawings?"

"Whoa! Friendly fire, man! I stayed up until 5 AM drawing these!"

England crossed his arms, "You should stick to sports."

America stuck his tongue out at England, then smirked, "Are my drawings as bad as your crappy food?"

The Englishman gasped in response, "My- how dare you, sir! I'll have you know, I make nothing but perfect cuisine!"

America nodded and pointed down at the drawing board, his finger landed on a terribly drawn Soviet flag, "Alright, so, we find ourselves in a cold war with Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Czechoslovakia, and a bunch of other countries I can't recall the name of!"

"Yes, yes, we all understood that part..." England responded hostilely.

"Also, Germany has been split. And Prussia has now been landed the country title _'East Germany'_."

Germany slammed his fist down again and growled, "I refuse to accept my brother as an East German nation! As far as I'm concerned, Eastern Germany has become Russia's playground!"

America gasped and held his hands up, "Germany, Germany, Germany..." he exhaled softly, "I need you to breathe in, and calm your Jew hating self down, please..."

A critical gasp was provided in response, but Germany sat himself down regardless and growled very loudly. Both Japan and Italy grabbed his shoulders as he cracked his knuckles.

"I do not deserve this utter bullscheiße..."

America pointed down at a poorly drawn image of Austria and Hungary, "Next! There is the Austria-Hungary emergency!" Austria lowered his eyelids sadly and dipped his head down, but did not speak a single word. "Now, Austria is not a part of NATO, nor is he a part of the Warsaw Pact; but Hungary is a part of the Warsaw Pact and has been disallowed from seeing Austria."

France gently pushed his finger up Austria's chin and chuckled sympathetically, "How tragic, that we live in a world that would forbid two lovers from seeing one another. Truly, Romeo and Juliet..."

Austria closed his eyes in slight irritation, "I simply want her to be free and visit me again."

America swat his finger down towards the bottom of the drawing board, which depicted the Asian bloc of communist nations. "Then! We have China and North Korea bound to stir up trouble. Thankfully, my good buddy, Japan, has allowed me to walk through his country freely, henceforth, I have a good angle to watch over those two."

Japan dipped his head down, "...I didn't allow you, you forced me..." he whispered aloud.

England scratched his head and raised an eyebrow, "And what on Earth are those two drawings near the bottom of the page?"

America snapped his fingers and laughed loudly, "Oh! That's Captain America and Lieutenant Seppuku joining forces to fight communism!"

"And this- wait- how are fictional heroes going to come to life and stop communism?"

"They're not, I just drew that for the Hell of it!" England rolled his eyes and sighed. America spun around beat his fists into his palm, "Now, here's a brilliant plan I came up with while watching commercials last night-"

"Hold on a minute!" England shouted loudly.

Everyone gasped and went silent. The Englishman's eyes turned sharp as he stood up, and with a straight finger, he pointed forward.

"You're not a NATO member!" he shouted hostilely.

The young boy—Sealand—remained seated with a surprised face. He then grinned and nodded, "But I'd like to be! So here I am to lend a helping hand against Russia!"

England grabbed Sealand by the ear and angrily began to drag him towards the door, "Bloody fantastic! You can help by guarding the door!"

Sealand gritted his teeth and looked up after being kicked out, "Guard the conference door? Like a sentry?"

"No, you can guard the door to the building entrance!"

"B- but I won't hear of the latest NATO plans from out there!"

England beamed, "Exactly!" he said before slamming the door shut.

The Englishman made his way back to his seat, but was met with disapproving flak by Canada. The silent Canadian raised his hand forth and lowered his eyebrows. "Y- you know, we could always use a helping hand..." he whispered.

England sat back down and faced America, "Alright, now, this plan of yours?"

"Okay, so here's plan number one!" America beat his fist into his palm and smirked, "We develop a satellite that can target any communist in the world, and launch a nuke on their asses!"

Germany widened his eyes and grunted, "B- but there are communists in our own countries. That would result in world destruction, you fool!"

America's lips puckered, but he smiled again and brought up a second finger, "Okay! I hear you! Not my best idea, but check this!" He leaned forth and swat his fists in the air excitedly, "Japan whips us up a communist fighting titan robot!"

"Russia now has nukes, it would literally be destroyed in seconds. Not to mention, that's impossible to make in the first place."

"Um, no, wait..." America raised his eyebrows curiously, "Is that true, Japan, my man?"

The black haired man nodded honorably, "Aye, we had a hard enough time designing super battleship Yamato, let alone a giant stereotypical fighting robot."

America shrugged, "Welp, that's all I had planned. If anyone has a better idea, I'm all ears!"

Canada lowered his eyebrows and raised a finger, "Maybe we should open up talks with Russia. We don't _have_ to threaten him..."

England crossed his fingers together, "I was thinking that I'd go in deep and spy on them. You know, get on the ground level..."

Germany and Italy exchanged glances, then looked at England in unison. Germany held his hand up and shook negatively, "Nein, don't do that. They'll capture you for sure."

France winked at America and held his hand up, "I say, we send Russia and his friends a box of chocolate..."

With heavy excitement, America beamed, "Explosive chocolate!? Dude, awesome!"

The Frenchman slowly opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow, "Explosive?"

England slammed his hands down and shook negatively, "Guys, guys, we're not trying to kill Russia, we're merely trying to contain him!"

America narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "That sounds like something a communist would say..." England's eyes flashed open, but then half shut as America proceeded to laugh, "JK, man! I know you're with us through and through!"

Finally, in frustration, Germany grasped his forehead, "Enough of this! I can't take any more of it!" He stood up while rubbed his forehead, then walked towards the door, "Just fax me what we're going to do, I'm going home."

Italy leapt and pursued him, "Let's drive together!"

"Italy, I want to be alone..." he growled back.

"Okay! I'll drive Japan back to the airport myself!"

Japan lowered his eyebrows with a horrified expression, "Please, take Mr. Italy home..."

Germany turned his head and sighed, then turned towards the former Axis member, "Fine, come along, Japan."

The three left together, while the other NATO members watched silently. America was rubbing his chin the entire time, then smirked at the door shut behind the three. He opened his eyes slightly and snapped his fingers.

"I got it! We'll trade Russia and his friends some expired chocolate!"

France lowered his eyebrows, "We're still talking about chocolate?"

England gave America an aggressive stare, "Why would we send Russia chocolate that expired—let alone give him chocolate at all?"

America leapt onto the table and crawled up to America, he knocked down France's cup of coffee in the process. England grunted as America crawled up to him and grabbed him by the face.

"Because! If they eat expired chocolate, they'll all start vomiting!"

"And?"

America covered his puckered lips and shut his eyes tightly while trying to refrain from laughing, "It'll be hilarious!"

Several of the NATO members exchanged glances, but even England raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Finally, he turned towards America and nodded, "Okay, we just gotta make sure they don't know it's from us."

America sat down on the table and nodded, "Glad to see we're on the same page, man!"

England grinned at him and nodded, then closed his eyes, "So it's agreed, then. We'll poison the Warsaw Pact with chocolate and put them in bed for hopefully a week."

France raised his eyebrows and smirked at America, "Not a bad plan, America."

America jumped back up and stood tall on the table, "So it's established! We prepare for Operation Sweetheart!"

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

==Chapter 2=

The homesteads of the two Koreas now stood under darkness, but with the bright blue array of the moon coloring the atmosphere. The Korean War had begun, only, South Korea had already been forced into submission by his younger more masculine brother.

The simple gardener, even after hours, remained sitting against the wall of his living room. All windows were shattered from the seemingly endless barrage of rocks. After so many hours, the living room floor had become completely covered by fairly sized rocks.

"True Korea!" North Korea shouted from outside the house.

South Korea face palmed and groaned loudly whilst shaking negatively. America had never picked up on his calls, and above all, South Korea lacked the power to send his brother home. North Korea's energy never declined, rocks simply continued to fly into the house, regardless of how late it was. South Korea had merely spent the day trembling in the corner of the living room, but unlike his brother, now simply desired to lay down and rest.

Another rock was fired into the household. It ran straight into the corner of the room, then ricocheted. The small rock landed about a meter away from South Korea. With a dazed look, he yawned and shook negatively.

"Where in great Joseon is he getting all of these rocks from..?"

Surprisingly, North Korea wasn't targeting the one thing that would truly set his brother off—his beloved garden. This could've been for multiple reasons, but perhaps most likely that North Korea aspired to claim the gorgeous garden by the end of the war. Though he would never admit it, South Korea's garden was truly one of immense prestige and unmatched glory.

The red eyed Korean barred his teeth down viciously, "Surrender!?"

"Go to bed!" South Korea fired back.

In response, North Korea slammed his foot down. The end of his jackboot had dug straight into the ground, "I will not stop until you submit to me with unconditional surrender!"

South Korea continued to glare aimlessly, but then sighed and knocked his head back, "Oh, for the love of-"

Just then, the telephone had begun to ring. The Korean's eyes widened massively at the phone that was on the floor beside him. There was no hesitation in his decision to accept the call. He couldn't care less who it was, even if it was Canada, he would be very happy.

With quivering eyes, he brought the phone up to his face, "Y- yes! Hello, who am I speaking with, please?"

"Sup, man! It's America."

He gasped, then ducked down with the phone as more rocks flew into the house. "America! Where have you been!?"

America was sitting at his home computer and was no longer wearing his bomber jacket, "I was at a boring NATO conference. Britain was being a total drag, as always..." America leaned in towards the monitor and rubbed his chin in frustration, "Oh, so uh, yeah. So I'm trying to install _Starcraft II_, but it says I'm missing a .dll file. The Hell does that mean?"

"A- America! I need your help!"

"No, I need _your_ help, with this video game."

"F- for God's sake, America! My brother's declared war on me and he won't leave until I give him everything!"

For once, a very serious gasp came out of America's mouth. He immediately got out of his seat and adjusted his glasses, "What? That little twerp's giving you trouble!?"

"He's going insane! He's already broken all of my windows, and he's still throwing rocks!"

America slammed his hand down while continuing to grunt, "This is real serious, bro. Are you _sure_ this is a war? Cause this could get really bad if Russia or China gets involved..."

South Korea nodded frantically, "It's a war! And I don't know how much longer I can hold out, he's surrounding me and has broken my only supply line!"

Again, America grunted, "He broke your supply line!? How!?"

"Well..." South Korea lowered his eyelids and turned his head towards the kitchen, "There's too many rocks on the floor, I'd never make it to the refrigerator without hurting myself..."

Very angrily, America rolled up his sleeve and grinded his teeth, "You stay put, I'll be right over ..." he turned his head back toward the computer and hummed, "But, uh, about that Starcraft issue?"

"Later!"

"Gotcha."

England was holding onto his pillow tightly, his eyes twitching constantly, and a startled expression on his sleeping face. He had covered himself with a blanket displaying the Union Jack, his pillow had a red cross on it—representing the flag of England. He trembled while sleeping, then momentarily grasped his pillow more tightly and shook negatively.

"...g- get out of my room, sleazy Frenchmen..!" he muttered soundly in his sleep.

All of a sudden, England had been awoken from his nightmare as his telephone had begun to ring. He grunted loudly with tired eyes, then moaned. He closed his eyes, but reached for the phone.

"Who could be calling so late at night?" he brought the phone up to his face with an overly frustrated appearance, "Blimey, unless the call's about inevitable nuclear armageddon, I swear..." He accepted the call and cleared his throat, "Good evening, this is Eng-"

"Dude, England! You need to meet me in Korea, pronto!"

England's look of frustration had quickly become more intense, now understanding who was calling, "It's one in the bloody morning..."

"Uh, yeah? So?"

"I'm trying to sleep."

A brief silence had occurred, America proceeded to grunt softly, almost as if he were confused. "Seriously? You're sleeping at one in the morning?"

England sighed and face palmed, "Yes, while you're up smoking a joint, drinking beer, partying, and playing video games; I take it upon myself to rest and build up energy."

Just after saying this, America's extreme laughter completely blew into England's ear. The Englishman gritted his teeth in pain and retracted the phone from his ear.

"Two words, bro! Energy drinks."

Again, England sighed, "Right, anyhow, what business would I have in Korea, at one in the bloody morning?"

"Oh yeah, North Korea's invading South Korea and needs our help."

Finally, England's eyes flashed open. He jumped out of his blanket and sat along the edge of his bed with a petrified expression, "Good God! Does Russia know about this yet!?"

"I dunno, but if he finds out, World War III might go hot."

England grasped his forehead while constantly grunting, "Well, we need to win this war before he notices!" his eyes suddenly narrowed suspiciously, "Wait, you called me? Is France involved?"

"Nah, I just called you."

Slight surprise had been enlisted into the Englishman, "J- just me?"

From within the very expensive private American jet, America closed his eyes with a faint smile. He sat back comfortably in his seat, "You and I have our differences, but between me and France, me and Germany, or even me and Japan, I still like to consider you my bestie."

England was left sitting still with widened eyes, "Y- you and I?"

"We're long past that sad time, where you and I clashed blades..." he slightly opened his eyes, "A hero always needs a sidekick, and you fit the canvas perfectly."

"Jeez, thanks..." he muttered in irritation.

"We don't need to drag all of NATO into this, let's just push this twerpy communist down and lock him up for good. You and I."

"Well, I uh, must say. I thought you'd at least consider entering the war with Japan..."

Again, America shocked England's ear by laughing loudly, "Japan aid South Korea!? Sure! Let's ask Germany to aid Poland while we're at it!" he shouted sarcastically.

"Ah, right..."

America exhaled calmly, then closed his eyes again, "I'm almost to Korea, so I guess I'll see you at South Korea's house."

"You're already there? How did you get there so fast?"

America looked out the window of his plane and smirked, "I took a private jet there..."

England crossed his arms and smirked, "Who would possibly be willing enough to fly you to Korea at one in the morning?"

"Oh, the pilot's asleep. I'm flying there myself."

"Wh- wh- what!?"

"Yeah, I'm flying there ma self!" America momentarily tilted his head and raised an eyebrow curiously, "I wonder how you land this thing..."

"You bloody idiot!"

Germany, in his full green uniform, walked down the streets of West Berlin—a city that had now been divided by NATO and the Warsaw Pact. His mean look was clearly visible, however, he still nodded at every passing citizen in a greeting fashion.

The German sighed, "This is madness. Make us pay war reparations, this time it would be fair. But to divide an entire culture? Absolutely madn-"

"Hey! West Germany!" a Germanic voice called out.

"Scheißer..." he growled before stopping.

Germany turned his head towards the Berlin Wall, where the silver haired, red eyed, and overly egoistic brother had revealed himself. Somehow, he found himself leaning over the fairly tall wall. Almost mockingly, he waved to Germany.

"Wassup, bro? How is West Germany doing today?" he asked with puckered lips.

Much attention was drawn to the two, especially after Germany spun around and shook his fist up at his soviet counterpart, "Do not address me as _West Germany_!"

Prussia lowered his eyebrows and chuckled in a cute way, then raised his hand up gently, "The awesome _East Germany_ is just out for a stroll in the better side of Berlin..."

"And you are not East Germany! You will forever be known as Prussia in my eyes!"

"Oh, ja, but the big boss, Russia, would completely disagree with you there."

Germany smirked and shook negatively, "How hypocritical of you. Russia was once your enemy, but now you kiss his feet and wag your tail like a dog."

Prussia shook negatively, "What Russia and I have, is an equal partnership..."

"You are nothing but a satellite nation—merely another child that he has adopted!"

"Say what you want, oh jealous West Germany, but the fact remains, I have half of Germany under my control. You are nothing but a meat shield for your capitalist _allies_."

Germany growled, "That may be so, but you are nothing more than a slave to the Soviet Union!"

Prussia narrowed his eyes, then closed his eyes to chuckle, "Poor Austria, Hungary is now on our side..." he shrugged with puckered lips, "Might pay the fair maiden a visit, perhaps get her drunk and see where that leads off..."

Germany merely moved his jaw around in silence, unsure of how to respond to this. Prussia was clearly saying this in an attempt to provoke him, however, Germany was unsure of how this was meant to make him angry. Very simply, Germany shrugged at him and turned away.

"If you insist on being an ass, then, I suppose..." he lowered his eyebrows and began to walk away, "Either way, just shut up and leave me alone."

Prussia grunted and dropped his smirk, then snarled softly. After doing this he shrugged and dropped down onto the ground, it was there that he dug into his pocket to soon reveal a piece of shiny chocolate.

"Either way, this anonymous chocolate gift proves that the world prefers the awesome East Germany over the grumpy ass West Germany..."

He walked very casually down the streets of East Berlin, all the while, he proceeded to eat various pieces of chocolate.

Meanwhile, in a completely different part of the world, was a large palace-like building covered in snow. The building contained many bedrooms and was walled up almost like a castle. The interior of the building was very fancy and aristocratic—contrary to the communist lifestyle. Along the hallways were several portraits of a man in a large tan coat, scarf, and cream colored hair. Almost every portrait was of the same thing—the man smiling gleefully with his foot over an enemy. The latest piece of the collection, was a portrait of the man standing above a defeated Germany in his Wehrmacht attire.

Within a massive dining room, a red soviet flag hung proudly just above a fireplace. Dinner had been served, in what was regarded as a great day. This was the house of the Soviet Union—the shared homestead of Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia.

At the front of the table, was the rightful leader of not just the Soviet Union, but respectfully, all of communism. Russia calmly cut into a slab of meat with a robotic smile on his face. Despite being inside, Russia kept his scarf and coat on, including his gloves and boots as well. After eating a slice of meat, he hummed joyously and nodded.

"The meat is good!" he turned his head and beamed at Estonia, "You have done good."

Estonia swallowed and dipped his head down, his glasses slid down his nose very slightly, "Th- thank you, sir."

Russia took another bite, then looked up with the same smile, "This meat is so juicy, and so fresh. It makes me feel good inside..." his gaze then became aimless, but his ambient smile remained, "Kind of like the feeling I get when I dream of nuclear mutual destruction..."

The three Baltics grunted loudly, then all returned to their food. Russia closed his eyes and let out a soft chuckle, "Of course, I am kidding. I will destroy all enemies once again before that happens." His strong gaze suddenly went towards her big sister Ukraine, "Then we will open that giant playground in Crimea to celebrate."

Ukraine saluted him, her enormous breasts swished up as she did so, "I thought we were doing a water park."

"U-uh..." he shrugged happily, "We will do them both."

Everyone had been alarmed as an unfamiliar person had suddenly crept up from behind Russia out of virtually nowhere. Two soft hands momentarily grabbed Russia by the waist, thus invoking a grunt from him. He turned his head, then smiled; his littler sister, Belarus, had made her debut.

"Oh, there you are, Belarus."

The young sister looked deep into Russia's soul with the same strict look, Russia continued to stare at her happily, but finally twitched and dipped his head down. Belarus narrowed her eyes at him and began to stroke his shoulders.

"Why haven't you complimented my appearance?"

It was only then that Russia had noticed the obvious change. No longer was Belarus wearing her usual blue and white dress, she was essentially wearing the same attire—only it was now mostly red. She now had a red ribbon on her head, rather than white, and a red dress, rather than blue. Russia put on a cute smile—yet conveying very faint nervousness.

"Oh, I like it. You look very cute."

Russia let out a panicked yelp as Belarus grabbed his hand and squeezed it intensely, "I am making you a red sweater. I would be happy if you wore it around Christmas..."

"Okay, okay! I will think about it!"

She blinked a few times at him, then nodded before walking over to her empty chair, "I love you."

Russia waved his crushed hand around with a quivering lip, "Very painful love..."

Lithuania smiled at Belarus, but was completely disregarded. He dipped his head down and cleared his throat nervously, "Uh, okay, so we were given this mysterious gift..."

"Da-a, is it new atomic bomb?"

He pushed a fairly large—but thin—box of chocolates onto the table, everyone but Belarus raised their eyebrows in surprise. Ukraine leaned forward and scratched her eyebrow, "Chocolate?"

Russia smiled, "Is it explosive chocolate?"

Lithuania shook negatively, "It's clearly just a gift, maybe from Hungary?"

Belarus blinked only once within the past two minutes, "It is clearly a gift for me and big brother Russia, for our anniversary."

The soviet leader nearly choked on his food after hearing this, then merely dipped his head down with a squirming mouth and closed eyes, "W- we have an anniversary..?"

Latvia raised an eyebrow, "These could have come from anywhere, but, still, they're kinda expensive looking..."

Lithuania narrowed one eyebrow and nodded, "Yeah, that makes me think it came from someone of high rank..."

Russia beamed at the gift, "It is probably from China. How pathetically kind of him!" he said excitedly.

Several looks of intrigue were still being given to the box, ultimately, Belarus was the first to express her intention on the matter, as she crossed her arms. "I'm not eating that, it will ruin my figure."

Ukraine nodded, "The gift is probably for you, Russia. I wouldn't feel good taking from it."

The three Baltics nodded in unison, leaving Russia to hum. "Well, that is a lot of chocolate for me to eat..." he closed his eyes excitedly and rubbed his hands together, "I will shoot them up into space and make it a Russian satellite."

Everyone but Belarus grunted, Latvia being the first to turn his head, "You want to put the chocolate into a rocket?"

"Yes."

"But-"

Belarus clawed the table and gave Latvia a cold gaze, "Do not question big brother's decision..." she hissed.

Lithuania lowered his eyelids and grabbed the box, "So-o, you'd like me to send this off with our next rocket?"

"Yes."

Estonia shrugged, "Not the best choice of spending, in my opinion, but-"

Before he could finish, Russia had given him an almost insane look. His eyes seemingly began to glow while smiling, as if a dark aura had suddenly surrounded the figure. Estonia gritted his teeth and grunted nervously.

"Bu-ut..?" Russia asked with a dark smile.

"Nothing! It is a good decision!"

Russia nodded, "Then we will be the first to send chocolate into space."

Ukraine tapped her finger over her lip and hummed, "Maybe we could share some of it with our allies before the launch."

Russia immediately shot down this proposal, "East Germany called in sick today. He is in no mood to eat chocolate."

After having eaten so much of the gifted chocolate, Prussia kicked open the door to a nearby bathroom and grunted. He charged over to a garbage bin and quickly dumped what chocolate he had left away—no longer desiring to eat more. Of course, what he didn't know, was that the chocolate he had been eating was expired, courtesy of NATO.

He ran his hands under the sink and splashed the water over his face, "Ugh, the awesome Prussia is not feeling so awesome right now..." he groaned and grabbed onto his stomach, then widened his eyes. He immediately made a turn for the garbage bin and placed his other hand over his mouth.

"And now, I must have an awesome vomit..."

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

==Chapter 3=

North Korea's boot had finally come crashing through South Korea's door. The older brother was left grunting and trembling, but had picked up a stone from the floor to defend himself with. The door now had a large hole, though North Korea was still unable to get it fully open.

"Open this damn door right now!"

The eyes of South Korea trembled very nervously, his stomach growled intensely as well. He was at a much greater disadvantage considering he had been cut off from the kitchen for so long. While North Korea managed to eat what he could, South Korea was left trembling in the corner of his living room—which he now regretted doing. He was hungry and above all, low on morale. If the enraged brother were to successfully make his way into the house, there would be no choice. South Korea would need to surrender and disappear—like many countries.

North Korea dropped to his knees and poked his head through the broken door, his brother could not be seen from this angle, however.

"You best surrender now! I have clearly defeated you!"

With a clear frantic look, South Korea got onto his knees, "Why can't we talk this over!?"

The door was beat on once more, this time, North Korea did so while chuckling—almost like Prussia. "I want to do nothing more than talk this over. But in a way that benefits me, and belittles you."

South Korea sighed and fell back onto his rear. His eyebrows slowly lowered as he shook negatively, unable to comprehend why his younger brother had suddenly decided that a time of violence was to occur. His concentration was shattered as another large pound was made at the door, this time causing the house to shake and the door to crack. North Korea smirked and cracked his knuckles, then combined his kicking with threatening soft pounds.

"This door won't keep me away forever!"

Just after saying this, both Koreas grunted and widened their eyes at the sound of a buzzing. North Korea continued to pound for several moments, but soon turned his head to scan the area. South Korea looked out one of the shattered windows and gasped as well.

A private jet was coming down at an incredible speed, clearly not with the intentions of landing softly. Red, white, and blue stripes ran across the speeding jet, with the title _'Air Force is #1'_ on the side in slick bold lettering. North Korea's eyes had shot open immensely upon spotting the English letters of the plane. For the first time in nearly one day, North Korea had completely ceased his attack on the South Korean homestead.

"Oh no, it can't be..."

South Korea exhaled in relief, then widened his eyes again, "Wh- why is he not turning on the air brakes!?"

The plane briefly shined as it crossed paths with the sun, and within about a mile from the ground, the plane swooped upward and prepared to land—roughly. North Korea let out an intense gasp and dived down onto the ground, both hands covering the top of his head. A massive gust of wind blew at him as the plane flew over him and finally touched the ground. The plane slid for several meters, every wheel of the plane immediately burned off, then much of the base. Ultimately, the plane had landed straight in-between the two households, but the nose of the plane had dug deep into North Korea's lawn.

Both Koreas were left staring at the plane. South Korea was praying that America hadn't hurt himself due to the boneheaded landing, North Korea was just as concerned—but not for America.

"M- my lawn!"

The door to the plane was suddenly kicked open, and after taking a single step onto North Korea's torn up lawn, America sniffed the air and exhaled with a smile.

"Ha, ha! _Now_ this looks like a battlefield!" he said after looking at the downed plane.

North Korea took a step back while grunting, America was well known to be a much hated figure in the North Korean household; often times, North Korea refused to acknowledge America as a country, but rather, a capitalist empire.

America continued to hold his waist whilst looking into the air. His eyes were closed, and an immense grin was on his face. As he typically viewed himself as the heroic protagonist of all situations—America was waiting for someone to enter him in.

"America! You made it!" South Korea shouted in relief.

The American snapped his fingers and revealed his bright teeth, "There it is..."

North Korea continued to grunt and tremble, completely taken back by the fact that America had taken the time to aid South Korea, when he was needed in so many other places. The communist Korean took another step back and glared as America finally made eye contact with him. Blue eyes to red eyes.

A rock had fallen out from under North Korea's sleeve and into his palm, deep inside, he was scared beyond belief. But he was too prideful to admit it. _I've heard the stories, of how this man changed the tide of any war he entered..._ America narrowed his eyebrows at him and smirked hostilely. _As long as America picked a side, the other side always fell doomed to inevitable defeat. But this time he's alone, could I be the one to defeat him..?_ After contemplating about this, North Korea had become more excited. The thought of single handedly defeating America was a dream many countries had, and North Korea felt as though he had a good chance. _If I defeat America, the world will truly view me as the truest Korea. No, not just as True Korea; they'd view me as a superpower..._

After slamming his foot into the ground, North Korea launched forward and chucked a stone straight for America, who remained perfectly still with a challenging smirk. Both men smirked, but America was the only one to retain the smirk seconds later. Just before the rock could strike him across the face, he had pulled out a baseball glove from behind his back and caught it. North Korea grunted loudly and widened his eyes.

"Strike one, dude!"

North Korea remained still with a trembling stance, he gulped and brought another stone into his hand. America beat his fist into the glove and nodded. North Korea constantly looked up and down at America, then again, chucked a stone. This time the stone went straight for America's crotch, but again, America caught it without a struggle.

"Wow! Really? A crotch shot? Weak."

"Shut. Up."

America laughed loudly, "Oh man, you're so mad!"

"I said, shut up!" the Korean responded after throwing a third stone.

The stone was caught, and only a yawn was returned to the Korean, "Alright, that's three strikes."

America dropped the glove and picked up one of the tossed stones. With a smirk, he took aim at his enemy, who was now clearly trembling in shock. South Korea was completely amazed by America's style of warfare; rather than taking an aggressive stance, like his brother, America used a style of mixed humor and aggression. North Korea had another stone in his hand, but was practically stunned in horror, as if he were wrestling a bear.

America locked the stone back behind his head as he prepared to throw, "Better run, dude! Cause I'm about to throw a ball like Tony Romo!" he lowered his eyelids with puckered lips, "Except I'm not gonna suck."

North Korea narrowed his eyes and held his hand out, prepared to catch the stone like his rival had just been doing. The stone was thrown, but was too fast to block. He had been hit straight across the face and knocked to the ground by the immense force of the stone. The Korean remained on the ground with dizzy eyes, still trying to get over what had just happened.

Finally, South Korea opened his door with a stone in his hand as well. Just as he prepared to sit up, he was pelted in the head by his brother. He growled in response and turned his head, but was then knocked down again by an All-American hit to the head.

"Ouch! Gah!"

America chucked the final stone across his chin, but his brother continued to rain down much lighter hits. South Korea lacked the strength that America held, along with the brutal nature. America was a very laid back person in all cases, even in war, but regardless, packed serious heat.

The downed Korean got onto his knees and quickly began to crawl to his own property. America cracked his knuckles and grinned, "Hey, come on! I just got here, don't run!"

North Korea gasped and immediately ran back to his own house, where he would need to quickly fortify his door with tables, desks, and other heavy pieces of equipment. North Korea knew exactly how to prepare for an American attack, because America would naturally bring more to the table than mere door kicking.

Having gone inside of the plane and back out, America revved up a massive chainsaw and grinned strongly, "Welp! We'll just have to cut that door down, then!"

South Korea quickly approached America, "Uh, excuse me, but we won't be using that _on_ my brother, will we?"

The chainsaw was running, but regardless, America held onto it with only one hand and lowered it so that he could pat his ally on the head. "Nah, we're just going to saw down that door!"

The two walked together towards North Korea's house. The general thinking was that he would surrender after seeing the chainsaw, where the table would turn and leave _North Korea_ the one to disappear, while South Korea would become _Korea_.

Just before walking up to North Korea's doorstep, South Korea stopped to look down at his brother's dead garden. America continued forward, but South Korea remained standing with somewhat of a sympathetic expression. The dead flowers were heartbreaking for him, as he too, had a garden he loved. Part of him wondered if North Korea shared the same fascination, or just wanted to have a better garden than his brother. Regardless of his intentions, the two were at war, and thus there was no time for sympathy.

He continued over to America, who had now begun to saw through the door. As expected, there were many desks and drawers already put against the door to slow down America's breaching progress.

Meanwhile in Paris, the young Sealand remained seated on a bench within NATO headquarters. There was another meeting taking place that had been initiated by France. The general fear was that a civil war between North and South Vietnam could soon occur—and South Vietnam had friendly relations with France; while North Vietnam was beginning to lean towards China. With England absent from the meeting, Sealand was hoping to have gotten a seat in the meeting. But alas, he wasn't being recognized as a member, thus not allowed into the conference room.

He sat kicking his feet back and forth constantly, then pouted. _Why does no one understand the significance of Sealand and what I can bring to NATO..?_ Just as he pondered about this, France had walked by. The young boy gasped and widened his eyes, then hopped up onto his feet to pursue him.

"H- hey, France! Wait up!"

France came to a stop and lowered his eyebrows in confusion, "Yes, hello?" he turned, then grunted and raised his lower eyelids after spotting the young country, "Oh, it's, u-uh, Luxembourg."

Sealand came to a stop and put on a surprised face, "Luxem- no! It's Sealand!"

The Frenchman puckered his lips and raised his eyebrows, "Sea-who?"

"Sealand! My name is Sealand, gosh darn it!"

France appeared only more confused by the moment. He tilted his head and scratched his chin, "Sealand? What kind of name is that?"

The boy brightly smiled and raised his finger, "Well, it's quite simple, but clever! You see, I am technically considered an island, hence the name _Sea_land."

"Oh..."

Sealand put his hands together and brightly smiled, "Oh please, sir, I would very much like to be a member of NATO and fight communism! I may be small, but I have a big heart and can bring a lot more to the table than you might think!"

France smiled with a feeling of awkwardness, then began to toy around with his long gold hair, "Um-m, well, we really don't need more help..."

With a frown, Sealand held up a Help Wanted poster, "B- b- but I found this poster that seeks volunteers!"

"Oh, but that's an outdated poster. Probably years old for all we know."

"But these posters are everywhere!"

"We are no longer looking for members."

Sealand forced the poster closer to his face, thus invoking a grunt, "B- but it says you need all the help you can get!"

France rolled his eyes and rubbed his chin, "Um-m, um, uh..." he closed his eyes and smiled brightly, then reached into his pocket, "Oh! But what is this?"

Sealand raised an eyebrow at him, then was faced with a plastic card. France chuckled loudly and waved it around his face. "Is it a membership card?"

"No, but it is a five dollar gift card to the toy store!"

He grabbed the card, but lowered his eyebrows in confusion, "Wait, this isn't for a toy store. This is for some kind of bar..." he squinted at the card and stuck his tongue out, "Well then, what would cats be doing at a bar..?"

Immediately, France swiped the card out of his hand and handed him the correct gift card. He let out a high pitched nervous chuckle and began walking away.

"N- now if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work. Have fun..."

Sealand looked up at France after grunting, then back at the card. After France disappeared, Sealand shook his fist and growled in frustration. "While I may be thankful for the gift, I am outraged by this..." he turned towards the door and marched off in a fury, "One way or another, I'm going to take part in this Cold War!"

Later that day, America continued to saw into North Korea's house. The door had been cut down, but he was still working on cutting through the various furniture that had been placed behind it. South Korea remained leaning against the wall of his brother's house, thinking about what he had been through up to this point in time.

"I wonder if I'm ready to take on the challenge of becoming a unified Korea..."

America turned his head while sawing, but was unable to hear his ally over the loud buzzing, "What was that!?" he shouted over the buzzing.

Turning his head had revealed something, though. South Korea didn't notice, but England had now made his way up to the two. The Englishman was fairly irritated at many things, but primarily the obvious.

"What the bloody Hell is all of that back there!?"

"All of what!?"

England swung his hand back at the plane with a glare, America raised an eyebrow, but then smirked, "Oh! Couldn't figure out how to land, so I just crashed it!"

"Clearly!" he shouted back angrily.

South Korea looked back and forth between the two, England was someone he had only met few times—but never directly. The plane was one thing England was upset about, but was just as irritated by another thing America had—or _was_ doing.

"And what on Earth are you doing with that chainsaw!?"

America turned his head again, but everyone's eyes had widened within seconds as a loud snapping noise was sounded. The chainsaw's belt of teeth had finally snapped, but fortunately went flying forward into the house. Realizing that the tool was now broken, America turned it off and groaned.

"Aw man!" he turned and glared at England, "Well, I was tearing through this twerp's defense, but I guess I'm just gonna have to win this war another way!"

America cracked his knuckles, but was then grabbed by the shoulders. For once, America gasped in fear of England, who now faced him with an enraged expression.

"What are you, nuts!? We can't just intimidate our enemy with a chainsaw, keep in mind, we're supposed to be the good guys, and not even Russia fights with a God damn chainsaw!"

America glared as well, then shoved him aside, "Dude, you never win a war, why should I listen to you?"

"I have won many wars! You just like taking all the credit!"

England had shoved America, who then shoved England back like an angered child, "A movie has one protagonist, and I've been the protagonist of all great wars!"

The two grabbed each other hostilely and proceeded to growl like dogs, but as they did so, America's lip began to quiver. South Korea raised an eyebrow, and within a second, America stopped growling and proceeded to laugh. England continued to growl, but soon sighed and closed his eyes.

"Oh, there's no rhyme or reason to you..."

America turned towards the door again and nodded, "Well, let's get this door down!"

Both America and England began to kick on the door in unison, and after England had calmed down more, he was ready to get briefed on the situation.

"So where is North Korea, anyhow?"

America tapped his chin and hummed, "Hm, well, he has been very quiet..."

South Korea rubbed the back of his head, "Maybe we should open up negotiations now? He must be very frightened after such an experience."

"Nonsense," England responded. "Not only has he tried to invade you, but he also risks starting up World War III right here. He needs to be locked away."

America nodded, "Then we can make a video game about the Korean War."

"One thing at a time, America..."

The two were finally making progress with their kicking, as a gap had finally been opened between the furniture and kitchen. But just as America grabbed into the cabinet that blocked their way, a very loud whistle came from the hills. All three allies gasped with wide eyes.

South Korea looked up towards the hills, then widened his eyes and gasped, "Oh no..."

America and England stepped away from the door to face the hills as well, both then grunted. England appeared more concerned than America, but both were shocked, regardless.

Atop of the hills stood two men. North Korea stood with his arms crossed and a proud smirk on his face, beside him, was _his_ trusted ally. Wearing a long dark green coat with red medals and black buttons, was the dark haired ally of North Korea—and his only friend. A sword was holstered beside his waist. Unfortunately for the three allies, a very angry look was present on the face of the man.

"America, England!" China shouted hostilely.

England took a step back and grunted, "Oh, blimey, it's China..."

America was shocked by this, but only became angry upon spotting North Korea—who had somehow escaped the siege on his house. America stepped forward and cupped his hand over his mouth.

"Yo, NK, how did you get up there!?" he shouted loudly.

North Korea chuckled, "I took my secret underground tunnel to China..."

America, England, and South Korea all sighed and snapped their fingers. England closed his eyes, "Damn, I forgot that he has those..."

China swung his finger forth and barred his teeth down, "You attack my friend, unforgivable!"

England immediately broke down into a sweat and shook his hands back and forth, "No, no, no, no. You have it all wrong, he started this war; we're the defenders!"

"If you are the defenders, why do you seek to remove North Korea?"

America slammed his foot down, "He's a criminal!"

North Korea crossed his arms and closed his eyes, "I am no criminal, I am a mere Gardner who was minding my own business..."

South Korea walked in-between his allies and pointed up at his brother, "Lies! You attacked me for no reason!"

"You are the liar! Very typical thing for False Korea to say!"

England sighed and grabbed South Korea by the shoulder, "Look, China, let's not make a thing out of this. Let's just penalize North Korea some acres of land and call things square..."

China crossed his arms and shook negatively, "Too late! You have attacked my friend and must now pay!" he turned his attention towards America and narrowed his eyes, "Especially you! Where is my money!?"

America groaned and swished his hand, "God, the dude never leaves me alone about that debt..."

China cracked his knuckles and nodded fiercely at the three, "Prepare yourself, I will return tomorrow riding the Dragon of War..."

With this being said, China and North Korea turned around and went back down the hills. Now out of sight, England and America were left speechless. Soon, America hummed and rubbed his chin curiously.

"He's bringing a dragon. Guess we better go find a sword and suit of armor..."

England slowly turned his head and growled, then smacked America against the head with two fingers, "Stop joking around for once, we're in big trouble..."

"Call NATO?"

"Of course not, we're now on the border of World War III, let's not voluntarily cross it."

South Korea bit on his finger nervously, "What do we do?"

England spun around and pat his back, "Go and rest, we're going to need it..."

America nodded and threw off his jacket and shirt, his muscles glimmered as he walked toward the crashed plane, "And I'm going to go fix the plane."

"Yo- yo- wha-" England stomped his foot down, "You can't fix it! It's several meters dug into the ground!"

America bent over and picked up one of the dismembered wings, England gasped and dropped his arms in absolute shock by America's strength.

"Dude, we're going to need, _a lot_, of duct tape."

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

==Chapter 4=

Both Korean houses had been heavily damaged during the initial fight between North and South Korea. For now, both houses were under the complete control of South Korea and his allies. But alas, China vowed to return the following day, both England and America knew this to be an inevitable challenge of extraordinary proportion. For now, though, the three allies could rest—something England needed desperately, having been awoken so early in the morning by America's phone call.

Unfortunately, South Korea was the only one to receive bed rest. England was busy developing war plans, under the presumption that they manage to send China retreating in their first fight. America had taken it upon himself to try and fix the plane, which England ultimately established as being impossible. Regardless, out of desperation, England supported America's will to at least _try_ and fix the plane. A plane would offer a good method of withdrawal for the three in the event of a blowout defeat. Considering the things America had come up with in the past centuries, England wasn't completely doubting that he would come up with a complex way of fixing the plane.

Even though North Korea's house was less damaged, England had decided to situate himself in South Korea's house. As the Korean slept, England sat slouched over a wooden desk with nothing more than a candle to light up his work.

A map of Manchuria had been drawn on a sheet of paper, England had already drawn out what they would need to do secure victory over both China and North Korea. If their attack on China's home went as England had planned out, they could very well bring back the country of Manchukuo as an ally.

Manchukuo was a Manchu country who had fought for the Axis under Japan's wing. After World War II, Russia had conquered Manchukuo, but later offered the prisoner to China as a sign of newly founded friendship. Like South Korea, it was unlikely that Manchukuo and Japan would get along, regardless of being allies.

England's eyes were very tired looking, but with what strength he had left over his consciousness, he drew the American flag near southern Manchuria, representing where America would go to fight. He had already drawn the British Jack near the west, but something about drawing in the small stars of the American flag was bothering him.

His right temple pulsated while drawing in so many stars. The stars, obviously, did not need to be perfect; but England was a perfectionist and felt that it was necessary to properly replicate the American flag. The stars was what had the biggest impact on the Englishman, and after drawing the 45th star, he groaned and grasped his forehead.

"Ugh, so many stars..." he closed his eyes and lowered his eyebrows in frustration, "There used to be merely thirteen..."

With slightly opened eyes, he continued to draw in the small stars. He finished the flag within a few seconds, but alas, found himself lost staring at the American flag. His eyes had opened more, though not completely. A sigh was the next sound to come out of him.

"I'm fighting a war, alone, with America..." The Englishman stared at the flag very contently, then, almost against his will, a small smile formed on him, "That really takes me back, to a better time..." His tired eyes closed again as the smile remained, then he exhaled, "Back to the exploration days of the New World..."

:: Mid 18th-Century, North America ::

Several rows of soldiers in red coats marched across a battlefield with muskets and bayonets. Their feet hit the ground in unison as they walked, the sound of drums and flutes playing brought life to the battlefield with the large flag of Great Britain above each army. Accompanying the royal armies were many Native American warriors, led by Iroquois, Catawba, and Cherokee. On the opposing side, many blue clothed soldiers wavering the French flag. France himself—much taller than his men—marched straight for England and his armies. Alongside France was Canada—otherwise, at the time, known as '_New France._' And behind Canada's army, the Wabanaki tribe, led by Wabanaki.

Once the soldiers had met, their muskets popped like bottle caps, and the arrows of native warriors showered France and his men. As the battle raged, France and England had come face to face with their swords drawn. England drew his sabre, while France unsheathed his claymore.

With his typical humored chuckle, France gloated, "You're a fool to come at me, the Americas belong to me."

England grit his teeth and charged into France, then struck down upon his claymore. The two longtime rivals clashed swords in a test of strength. While pushing his blade down, England growled with a heavy glare.

"You're an illegitimate power lacking the capability of colonial expansion! The crown is truly the only one worthy enough to hold the New World!"

France returned a smirk, then proceeded into a duel of swings.

As the natives fought each other, Canada had pulled out his own claymore as he faced his own opponent. With a very nervous expression, Canada raised his sword up with a cute smile—likely only around the age of 13. His rival was of the exact same age and beared similar facial features. But the fired up look in his eyes made up for his young age. This was pre-independent America.

America grasped his sword with two hands and growled at the Canadian, who bowed honorably. Canada slowly began to approach America, "...um, pleased to meet you, sir. I'm Canada. I do hope that after this, we can be friends and never speak of this again..!"

With a loud war cry, America struck Canada. The sword was blocked, but Canada had already demonstrated great fright as all he did was defend himself.

"Oh, um, c- can we be a little more gentle..?" Another strong lunge sent Canada's sword up into the air, "Maple leaf!"

France ran at England with the intention of stabbing him, but was quickly blocked by the thin blade. The Frenchman continued to chuckle at England throughout the fight, "Oh, ho, ho, not such a Big Ben anymore, now are we?"

England continued to block France's attacks without too much of a struggle, but there were absolutely no openings for an attack of his own. As France continued to slash at England's sword constantly, it seemed as though the war had suddenly turned in France's favor. In a matter of seconds, England knew that he could find himself pinned to the ground forced to surrender all of his North American holdings. And with this thought in mind, the reality had come to life, as France had successfully destroyed England's noble blade.

The Englishman gasped in horror as he watched several shards of his sword fly past his face, ultimately leaving him with nothing but the golden hilt of his sword. France, still standing tall with a sword, wiped the sweat off his face and flourished his sword.

"It's time to throw the white flag..."

England grunted while taking careful steps back, but just before he could reach for the white fabric of defeat, the young America had jumped in between the two.

"Let me fight him!"

America had immediately flourished his sword and gotten into a combat stance, his height compared to France's was almost embarrassing. England widened his eyes and dropped his jaw.

"America, no!"

But regardless, the two crossed blades. France chuckled at America whilst shaking negatively, "Wonderful, I as might as well take the Thirteen Colonies while I'm at it!"

And so the two proceeded to duel, but to an immediate surprise, France found himself being fought by someone of incredible speed and strength. Unlike England, America's swings were fast and hard to block due to the immense force. The smug look on France's face had quickly dissolved, already understanding that he would need to put on a much bigger fight then what he was currently presenting.

"E- England taught you well, boy."

America nodded at the compliment, but was unsure if this was truly a compliment, or a sarcastic comment. Either way, France was unable to keep control over his own blade. Had England not lost his sword, an easy defeat would have been enabled. Only about twenty seconds into the fight, France was forced to leap away from America and shout in agony. He had not been stabbed, but the constant sword clashing had finally strained France's muscles, thus causing him to drop his blade in exhaustion. Next he dropped onto his knees while still holding his arm. The tip of America's sword came straight up between France's eyes—but refused to touch him.

The Frenchman grunted and looked up at the young colony. "Y- you- how? How did-"

"You leave my big brother alone! He's my favorite person in the whole world and I won't have you hurting him!" Both France and England gasped at this. America's eyes narrowed, "If you want a rematch, fine, but leave my big brother out of it if he doesn't want to fight!"

France grit his teeth in amazement, then, despite the _very_ humiliating defeat, found himself smiling somewhat pathetically, "My, what a prestigious boy you came to be..." he closed his eyes with a smirk, "It's a shame, that you side with him..."

Accepting defeat, France pushed his sword up to America's feet. The young colony bent over and grasped the French sword with pride, then put it away.

Meanwhile, from the shores of North America, a third party stood watching France's defeat with a telescope. Prussia let out a high pitched chuckle, then rubbed his chin while looking upon a defeated France, of whom he much despised.

"My, my, what an extraordinary child!" Prussia closed his eyes with puckered lips, "It is a shame that I couldn't have claimed him for my own. The _Awesome Colonies_! It would have been great!"

Later that day, a heavy fog had built up on the battlefield. France and his men had surrendered and handed Canada over to England. Canada was now ready to take part as a member of Great Britain. Standing alone with England, America presented France's sword with both hands and glimmering eyes.

"Here is France's sword. It was a good victory!" America presented excitedly.

England grasped the elegant French blade. The sword wasn't much in style, likely the same kind of claymore any soldier would bear. But it belonged to England's rival, and America knew that this was a possession that he had always hoped to acquire. It wasn't the first time that England beat France, but never at this magnitude.

Looking down at America, who was smiling immensely, England pat his head and closed his eyes. Then, after exhaling, placed the sword back into America's hands.

"I want you to keep it."

America gasped and widened his eyes, "What!?"

"You won the battle, you keep the sword. France's humility should belong to you, not me." America continued to grunt softly, half crushed, and half pleased by the sword rejection. "You saved me today. Had you not come a second later, I would have lost that war and been sent back to Europe for good..."

"But, you've always wanted-"

England placed his finger over his mouth and shushed the young America, "I order you to keep it. And America, now that Canada is becoming your sibling, I expect you to treat him with respect. Don't brag about your victory over him. Bragging is immature, and neither you nor I are immature."

Obediently, America nodded, "Of course..."

:: Korea, Cold War ::

England had now fallen asleep over the desk. The plans were set for China, but England wouldn't be sleeping in a comfortable position. He didn't admit it, nor did he look back on these days very often, but the younger days of America was quite possibly the greatest of days for England. During a time where Great Britain remained truly great, England had someone who cared so much for him, and France couldn't win a single fight.

The Englishman's eyebrows twitched slightly in his sleep, and his happy look had now disappeared, as he fast forwarded to the _bad times. _Against his will, his dreams had betrayed him and brought him back to arguably the worst time of his life.

:: Late 18th-Century, London ::

England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland all sat amongst each other at a round table. Their chairs were very qualitative and aristocratic, given that they were the main components of the crown. In regular chairs were Canada, India, Australia, New Zealand, and many other minor British colonies. Canada was now grown up and had become one of England's favorite younger brothers. But unfortunately, it was Canada who was to be the bearer of bad news on this day.

After having heard the news, England remained seated with both his hands covering his eyes. Scotland constantly glanced at England, then back at Wales, trying like everyone else to understand what he may have been feeling.

After a few moments of silence, England sighed very unclearly and waved his hand in the air without removing his other hand.

"...and what does the letter say..?"

Canada lowered his eyelids and raised the letter up, then cleared his throat, "It reads..."

_I've had it, man. I'm tired of living under your rule. I want the freedom to make my own friends now, maybe even find a lover. I definitely won't find any of that with you holding me down. And I'm tired of these taxes! A Call of Duty map pack already costs $15, why should I have to pay a whopping extra $10 in taxes!? I'm sick of drinking tea, eating scones, and having you decide my life for me. From this day on, I am independent! If you have any objections to this, you'll just have to come at me. I'm done, and I desire freedom. I am no longer your little brother, I am your friend, or not a friend at all. Sweet, democracy!_

_Signed, your __friend__, America._

England turned his head away and swallowed after hearing this. Canada lowered the letter and frowned, "We- we're not going to fight him, are we?"

The very thought of fighting the one he loved was unbearable for England, and with a mighty crash of his fist, he glared at Canada with watery eyes, "How dare he betray me like this! After all I've done for him!"

Many eyes were widened at the sudden uproar. England grit his teeth in full fury, his hair already becoming messed up, as though he were insane.

"I bring him into my home, give him a big brother in a world full of crazy people like Russia and Prussia, and even made routine trips from Europe to America, and this is how he repays me!?"

Scotland's hand raised, "It's just teenage rebellion. A phase. He would never be able to make it in the real world..."

"I know that! Blimey, an independent America would be a terrible thing! There's Mexico, Spain, France, Prussia, Bavaria, Sweden, Denmark-" he growled immensely and stood tall, "I won't allow it! America cannot be independent! I deny it!" he said after striking his fist down once more.

"You're going to fight him?" Ireland asked.

England sat back down and sighed, "I will rely on Scotland, Ireland, and Canada to attend to this matter. Once you have him down to his knees, lock him up in his room until I arrive."

Canada rubbed the back of his head and sighed, "Um, but..." England turned a hostile stare Canada's way, who then gulped and looked England in the eyes, "Sir, France and Spain have pledged their support to America..."

Another period of silence had occurred, this revelation almost made England want to cry. The very irony of the situation. At one point, to have been saved from France by America; just for it all to end with America fighting alongside France.

The Englishman closed his eyes, and after sighing, folded his hands together.

"This isn't common betrayal. This is an ungodly example of treason..."

And so England later awoke, slumped over the desk and confused. The candle sitting beside him had burnt out, but the room was illuminated by morning sunshine. Happy memories had been eaten by a bad dream, but alas, it was over now. The new day had come, though it wasn't to be peaceful.

Very abruptly, England sat up with widened eyes and gasped.

"Bloody Hell! It's already morning!" he panicked.

The Englishman rushed out of the house and took one step onto the ground, next to large contraption was America—who slept soundly against the body of the _plane_.

"America! Wake up!"

Upon request, America's eyes slowly opened. He picked up his glasses and situated them over his face before looking up at England with a slight smile.

"Sup?"

England continued to run towards him, but came to a stop after gazing upon what America had accomplished with the plane. It was completely redesigned, but, not as England had hoped. A loud surprised grunt sounded out of him. The Korean War had for a time completely slipped his mind, as he gazed upon such a strange piece of work.

"What, in the world, is this?"

America rubbed his tired eyes, then put on his usual look of excitement. Right up to his face, America let out an obnoxious laugh filled to the brim with pride.

"It's a replica of the Millenium Falcon!"

England widened his eyes and scratched the back of his head, "Of..?"

"From Star Wars, dude!"

"Star Wars?" England shook his head and let out another gasp of awe, "Can this thing actually fly?"

"N-nope! But it's still pretty wicked badass!"

Hopelessly, England dropped his arms and sighed, "I feel like I should be disappointed in you. But..." his eyes widened once more, "That, welding, skill..."

"We could call Japan and have him turn it into a working spaceship."

"Now hold on a minute, I thought you were the one who covered sci fi..."

America's eyes slowly lowered while retaining his grin, then after digging his hands into his pockets, the sound of two hands clapping together came from atop the mountains. Both England and America gasped, turned, then grunted. In front of the sun stood the silhouette of China and North Korea—China being the one standing tall.

"America, England! Prepare yourself!"

South Korea had momentarily approached the two, but with a fairly frightened expression.

"C- come on, we can win! We outnumber them!" South Korea cheered on.

America cracked his knuckles and chuckled, "He's right! With me on your side, we outnumber them five to two!"

England rolled his eyes, "I suppose..?"

North Korea let out his high pitched chuckle and snapped his fingers excitedly. China narrowed his eyes and nodded.

America laughed mockingly at China and cupped a hand over his mouth, "Yo, China! I kicked your ass in World War II, I'll do it again!"

England slid up to him with puckered lips, "...that was Japan..." he whispered.

"Well, regardless! I'm gonna make smoked sausage out of you!"

South Korea lowered his eyebrows, "That's a little much..."

"Don't worry, bra. You seem to be forgetting, we currently control both sides of Korea. We have the advantage!"

England nodded, "This is true..."

About two minutes later, the three were taking cover behind America's metal replica. All three appeared overly petrified as hundreds of bullets pelted the body of the replica. China had already reclaimed North Korea's house through the usage of an AK-47 assault rifle.

England let out a shiver, "He's shooting us with an assault rifle! He's bloody serious about this!"

America nodded quickly, "I thought he'd just wanna box me or something! That could kill someone!"

South Korea gulped, "I don't think we're winning this war..."

"No, not at all," answered England.

"What do we do, America!?"

America narrowed his eyebrows and grit his teeth, "He'll run out of ammo eventually! That's when I'll make my heroic move and-"

A bullet slid right over America's head, chipping away a piece of metal and forcing America down into a tremble.

"Holy crap, did you just see that!? He nearly took off my head with that bullet! This is crap! What is this, I don't even!"

England ducked his head as well in fear of getting hit, "Blimey, if I knew China were this crazy, I would have tried harder to keep him on our side after World War II..."

South Korea sat against the ship with a finger over his lip, "I hope they're not messing up my garden..."

England briefly glared at him, then closed his eyes, "Alright, we'll wait until he runs out of ammunition, retreat, then prepare for a comeback."

South Korea peered his head around the corner of the ship. China alone was unleashing Hell with an assault rifle, North Korea was lying back on a lawn chair snoozing with a smirk.

"I don't think North Korea's even partaking in the _Korean_ War at this point..."

England nodded, "Of course, why risk your own skin when you can rely on a bigger ally to do the work for you?"

These words had struck America, causing his eyes to flash open widely. The simple comment had immediately taken America away from the current situation and back to a past situation. Back to the moment where he had intervened against France to keep England from losing so long ago.

This was a particularly random flashback for America to have, though ironic, as England had just been thinking about the same memory before sleeping. With a look of determination, America nodded.

"Then that's something we have over them. Teamwork..."

Meanwhile, at the train station of Moscow, Russia stood alongside Belarus and Ukraine. Both ladies appeared overly nervous having the head of the Soviet household leave for a time. Ukraine's eyes were watery as she held his hand.

"Please don't fight America alone, Russia!" she pleaded.

Russia gave her a cute smile, "I simply want to see what is going on between the Koreas. I have not decided if I want to fight or not..." he hummed with the same smile, then closed his eyes, "I do love playing roughly, though, so-o..."

Ukraine grasped his hand more tightly, "War with America is premature! I have no doubt that you can beat him, but let us fight NATO in the safety of our home, not in Asia!"

The train had arrived, proudly displaying the hammer and sickle of the Soviet Union. Russia rubbed his fingers along Ukraine's, then nodded, "I will do my best to stay safe, thank you for your concern."

Russia took one step onto the train, then grunted. Belarus had fallen to her knees, still holding onto his waist. She had been dragged as he took the one step, but her face beared little emotion—she appeared as strict as ever while looking up at him.

"I am going with you, big brother..."

"I do love my family, b- but, you go everywhere with me..."

Belarus' eyes remained perfectly solid, "You and I are one. If you die, I must die as well..."

Russia gasped and held his hands up, "Um..." he gazed into her little sister's intimidating stare, then finally, broke down and sighed, "Okay, I will not fight. I just want to see what is happening."

There was much hesitation in doing so, but after several more moments, Belarus let go of him and stood up. She wiped the dirt off of her red dress and narrowed her eyes.

"You better come back in one magnificent piece, big brother..."

Russia entered the train for Asia, then waved farewell. The doors closed, and the train began to move. Ukraine stood standing, still waving farewell. And at the last moment, Belarus had a change of mind. She quickly leapt onto the end of the train and held on, but Ukraine immediately pulled her off.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

==Chapter 5=

"Ha, ha, ha! Screw you, Reds!" America shouted before chucking a baseball at North Korea's house.

The ball hit the roof of the house, thus causing absolutely no damage. It rolled off and landed before China, who then picked it up and narrowed his brows angrily.

"You are not getting this back!"

America gasped before glaring, "What!? Dude, come on!"

A perfect line had been drawn yet again between the households. The Allies sat back in South Korea's area, while the communist duo remained situated on their own side. China had wasted all of his ammunition, thus leaving the men to fight through more traditional means—with an emphasis on '_traditional._'

China stomped his foot down and grit his teeth, "You cannot win, America! Surrender now or I will be forced to hit you with a frying pan and spoon!"

"Ha! That weaponry is so totally outdated!" After throwing off his bomber jacket and flexing his muscles, America smirked, "Come over here and fight me the American way!"

The American was given a strong solid gaze, and with a nod, China turned to North Korea, "Protect the homeland!"

North Korea, lying on a bathing chair, nodded and took a sip from a pink beverage. He flapped his hand around while drinking, "Ya, ya, I've got it..."

China and America slowly approached one another, America did so with his fists up in boxing position, "I'm gonna down you like Ivan Drago!"

"Go back to designing offensive video games!"

America growled, "They're not offensive, they're exaggerated!"

Just before they could enter hand to hand combat, a strange occurrence had emerged, as England popped up out of nowhere and held his hands up.

"Hold everything!" he ordered.

Grunts came from both America and China, who had surprisingly stopped to hear out England. The Englishman turned to America and gave him a strong stare.

"You haven't eaten since you got here..."

"That's not true, I was eating a bag of chips while steering the plane."

Suddenly, England held up a plate and grinned confidently, "I made scones out of pure Korean wheat. They'll replenish your energy and give you the strength to-"

"Britain! You're a genius!"

England closed his eyes and smiled proudly, "Why, thank yo-"

America grabbed two scones and started to chuck them at China. A loud yelp came off of China after being hit on the head with England's food.

"Ouch!" he shouted upon getting hit again. The Chinese man was forced back a couple of steps while rubbing his head, "Th- those scones are rock hard!"

America chuckled, "Better run! This slinga's comin' right for ya!"

China was roughly hit across the face once again, then proceeded to block the incoming loafs of bread with his spoon. North Korea sat up and grunted, then found a scone perfectly thrown into his mouth. He spat the scone out immediately and cringed.

"That's horrible!" the Korean complained.

Both China and North Korea quickly backed away from the two, then took cover behind the house. America entered a period of heavy laughter before slapping his knee.

"Aw man, that was awesome!" he turned to England and held the plate up, "Quick! Go make more! Your terrible cooking coincidentally makes for the perfect ammunition!"

While from a certain point of view, this could have been considered a compliment—a compliment was not received. A dark look had overcome England, and with both hands, he proceeded to throttle America by the throat.

"Dude! What-"

"You bloody wanker my cooking is not the problem and even if it were it's definitely not the reason for their retreat you're just trying to make me feel bad because you know that your spelling and grammar is bollocks and if could be used as a weapon—would prove to be much more effective than any of my cooking could!" he spoke quickly without breaks.

"O- okay, calm down!"

While England continued to throttle his ally, South Korea had opened one of his broken windows and pointed up at the sky, "Look! Up at the sky!"

Not only did England and America look up, but so did China and North Korea. Regardless of who looked up, everyone gasped. America's eyes widened greatly, followed by a gulp.

"Uh oh..."

England instantly broke into a tremble and grit his teeth, "Oh shoot, things are about to get really bad..."

Both China and North Korea, in almost all circumstances, should have been relieved to see what was happening to the sky—but even they feared what this storm may bring.

Over the hills from the north, came a dark purple sky and dark clouds. The gloomy weather approached the south at an immense pace, yet, there was no lightning storm. The clouds were covering a violent storm—but the storm would not be coming in the form of lightning.

Just as everyone had feared, slowly arising from the hills came the sight of cream colored hair. A few steps later, two very cute looking eyes came into plain sight. And finally, the famous scarf crafted by Ukraine as a gift.

England grunted and took a step back, "...bloody Hell, it's Russia!"

Even America found his lips quivering, but more so in a troubled way, "We're going to need more than your shitty scones to send him running..."

Both China and North Korea came out of cover, "Russia!" they both shouted.

After a brief casual walk, Russia approached the North Korean household with a cute smile, "Privet, China and North Korea," he greeted softly.

England charged right up to the border between yards, but treated the situation as if there were no war going on. "Russia! What in blazes are you doing here?"

Russia turned his head and waved to England, "Oh, hello future parking lot."

"F- future parking lot?"

"I have decided that England is to become a parking lot to Russia's Scottish Amusement Park of Fun!"

America laughed, "That would be pretty awesome."

China gave Russia a strong gaze, "Are you here to deal with these troublemakers?"

To their surprise, Russia returned a questionable gaze, then smiled. He pat North Korea's head and shook negatively.

"I am here to offer my support."

"Shite!" England shouted.

"Bu-ut, there is nothing for me to gain from fighting. So I am merely going to give you some supplies."

North Korea clapped his hands together, "What kind of supplies, oh great Russia?"

Suddenly out of blatant nowhere, a massive metal crate had fallen from the clouds. Everyone but America and Russia jumped in surprise. With a retained smile, Russia pointed back at the metal supply crate.

"Guns, missiles, tanks, planes, bombs, and many other outdated soviet war pieces."

All three allies grunted fearfully, North Korea fired his hand up into the air excitedly, "Excellent!"

"Well, I best be going."

China grunted, "But you just arrived!"

"And I have yet to see a painting or statue of myself. I feel very unwelcomed right now."

This was all Russia had to say on the matter, and without a single second of hesitation, he turned and departed back over the mountains. America and England were both left very frightened by the Russian care package of goods—especially over the mentioning of weapons.

North Korea was immediate on getting some supplies, he cracked open the front door of the crate and reached in for a rocket launcher.

"Nice!" he observed the barreled weapon for a few moments, then lowered his eyebrows, "But, how do I use this?"

China picked up the instructions and slammed his eyes shut, "These instructions are all in Russian!"

America slapped his knee and laughed, "Looks like your miracle just turned sour!"

With a hostile look, China turned back toward his enemies, "Whatever! We still have plenty of new toys to fight you with that do not require instructions!"

"Bring it on!"

England stuck a scone into his mouth, then lowered his eyebrows after eating it, "Say, these aren't bad at all..."

Italy walked along the streets of West Berlin, whistling a loud tune whilst spinning his fingers behind his back. Many heads turned toward the Italian as he mindlessly strolled through the split city, of all the countries aligned with NATO, Italy was by far the most oblivious. His cheerful expression had soon dropped, however, as he suddenly found himself having a deep thought.

_Everyone is mad at each other and fighting, it's like it never ends..._ He grit his teeth and rubbed his boot along the ground. _Everyone is paying attention to poor Germany, but I want to help..!_

He thought carefully on how he might be able to help NATO foil the Warsaw Pact, but his attention had soon fallen victim to his nose—which caught an alluring scent. Looking up with excitement, Italy beamed. Past the Berlin Wall, a Parmesan truck had driven down the streets of East Berlin. The smell of hard cheese had, somehow, made it from the back of the truck into Italy's nose—and the macaroni warrior knew, that where there was Parmesan, there would be pasta.

"Pasta-a!

From across the same street, Germany had been sitting with his hand over his right temple in frustration. Italy's cheering had quickly awoken him from his moment of frustration.

"Italy?" he turned his head with two serious brows, "What are you doing-" and then the German gasped with utterly shocked eyes.

Like a cat and a laser pointer, Italy was foolishly running for the military checkpoint that divided the two cities. Germany's jaw dropped, followed by an intensely silent shout.

With the same excited smile Italy had first met Germany with, the Italian fearlessly—or cluelessly—ran straight for the checkpoint with the intention of crossing it. Just as Italy moved his leg past the checkpoint, he had been grabbed and practically tackled by Germany. Several communist rifles were drawn onto the two at that very moment, but alas, the eastern bloc soldiers had no jurisdiction in the matter—since Germany had stopped Italy from crossing in time.

"I- Italy! What the Hell are you doing!?"

Almost instantly, Italy had forgotten why he was crossing in the first place, as he now found himself far more interested in Germany. "Germany! It is so good to see you!"

The much taller ally dragged Italy back into the safety of his own nation, then wiped his forehead after exhaling in relief. "You can't go over there!" he lectured.

"But why not, isn't it still the great Deutschland?"

Germany looked Italy straight in the eyes with his sapphire eyes, "That is no longer under my control, my idiot brother has been granted that part of this culturally rich land."

"Can't we just go try some of his pasta?"

German lowered his eyebrows, but as expected, a loud whistle came from the East. A whistle that caused Germany to slam his eyes shut and growl.

"Hey, Ita-aly! You can come over to the awesome side!" Prussia shouted invitingly.

"Okay!"

"No!" Germany shouted after tugging Italy back.

Prussia looked at Italy and chuckled, "East Germany is the best Germany! Where else, can you listen to the awesome rock and roll music, eat from the finest of Russo-German foods, watch the totally bombastic East German cinema, and ride unicorns?"

"You have unicorns over there!?"

Prussia blinked once while still grinning, then after dipping his head, rolled his eyes up in a sly way, "...it is a work in progress..."

Germany stepped forth and swung his fist up, "It's also a great place if you enjoy outdated cars, marching troops, and the annoying undercover Stasi agents..."

Prussia's eyes flashed open, "I have no idea what you're talking about. We do not hire such agents..."

A man in a black leather trenchcoat, fedora, and a hidden camera suddenly leaned against the wall on the eastern side. He held up a book on gynecology and cleared his throat while suspiciously glancing over at Germany and Italy.

"Don't mind me. I am but a mere patriotic citizen reading up on the reproductive system..." the man spoke loudly.

Germany lowered his eyelids, then pulled Italy away from the wall, "If it's pasta you want, you can have some back at my place, I suppose..."

"Really!?"

Prussia narrowed his eyes, realizing that he had failed to enlist Italy's interest in betraying NATO. Like a snake, he slithered back down the wall. Germany and Italy proceeded to walk alongside each other, Germany with a fairly stressed look on his face.

"Ja, it's no trouble..."

But after saying this, Germany had stopped to grunt loudly. He backed away from Italy, but faced him, "Hey! Wait a minute, how the Hell did you get here? West Berlin is literally surrounded by Prussia, there's no way to get in!"

Italy smiled happily, "Oh, it's a funny story!"

:: One hour ago ::

Italy jumped around France with a very enthusiastic expression, all the while, France prepared food inside of large crates that were to be brought to West Berlin via the Berlin airlift. Which was the only way NATO could bring food and supplies to the citizens of the split city without trespassing on communist soil.

"And so Germany came and saved me from Egypt after so many scary smacks! It was very frightening!"

France nodded, "Alright..." he said after closing up a box of fruit.

"And then, and then! Germany and I later visited Japan after he invaded much of China! It was so nice to be together in a new kind of environment!"

"Okay..." he responded after closing a box of tomatoes.

"Oh! And this one time, I had a scratch on my back that I couldn't reach. So I put my butt on the ground, grabbed a stick, and used it to solve the problem! Then Germany walked in and said-"

The next thing Italy knew, France had shoved him into a crate and closed it up. He then stood up with a fairly pestered look on his face.

"Okay, all crates are ready to be flown over!"

:: Modern day ::

"And so! They opened the crate, and here I am!"

Germany closed his eyes and dipped his head down, "Amazing."

Fighting continued between mostly America and China. But despite what tactics were used, what weapons were issued, and what strength was being exerted—the fight remained between houses. America leapt back with two clenched fists, the fire was still lit in his stomach, despite how many bruised and dirty he appeared. China, likewise, appeared tired out and very soar.

North Korea lowered his glass of soda, "Go, China, go. Team effort!" he cheered before returning to relaxation.

America swung his hand forth to point at China, "Get ready, cause it's round 15, bro."

"I am not even close to defeat!"

The two charged at each other, both with locked back fists. At once, both knuckles met with full force. Naturally, the knuckles of both China and America blemished. America's eyes widened, as did China's.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!"

"Shèng qiú!"

Both men leapt away from each other and were shaking their red hands in pain—as if steam were blowing off of them as a result of the fist collision. China placed his fist over his mouth and closed his eyes, America continued to flail his hand around while whining.

"Dude that seriously hurt I can't believe we just did that it was awesome but hurt really ba-ad!"

Just as China opened his eyes, a fully capable England stood before him. While China believed that defeating England would be no problem under most circumstances, even he felt threatened by the fact that he was already gassed from fighting America in what was clearly a stalemate of power.

Rather then attacking, the Englishman narrowed his eyes, "China, why don't we just call it a day and resume on with our day."

China glared, "You were invading my friend! North Korea has a right to exist as a unique country!"

England closed his eyes and grumbled unclear words out of his mouth, then shook negatively, "China, when have I ever invaded a country?" Every head bobbed up upon asking this question. It only took England half a second to realize the stupidity of his own question, "Don't answer that..."

Even while very beat up, America laughed hysterically, "Dude, I'm pretty sure you've attacked _everyone_ in the world but Belarus."

"That was the past! I'm a better person now!"

China clenched his fists, "I am not surrendering!"

South Korea, finally, chimed in by approaching the three. The sight of his brother intrigued North Korea.

"Then let us at least cease our hostilities so that we can _try_ and talk thinks out!"

"An armistice?" China proposed.

"Smashing idea, old chap," England said with a grin.

America smirked and nodded, "Yeah, screw it, let's just all calm down and try to make sense of things before we end up killing each other."

There was a slight halt, as everyone questioned whether this was truly the best course of action. But as it would appear, North Korea was the only one supporting the idea of continuing on with the fighting. But even he realized that his ally was taking a strong hit, and that perhaps a _temporary_ truce would be the safest course to take.

China nodded and turned to his ally, "Mary Woo! You may return to your home in peace. We have established that an armistice-"

America gasped loudly, "What the- no, no way!" Everyone turned to America, who immediately broke into laughter, "Dude, your name is _Mary Woo_?"

North Korea glared, "Yes..?"

"Oh my God! That's such a girly name!" America's laughter soon echoed through all of Asia. He collapsed onto the ground, unable to control himself, "M- Mary Woo! Oh my God! I _have_ to Tweet about this!"

As America laughed, North Korea's eyes blazed like the pits of eternal damnation. And so North Korea's eternal hatred of America had begun.

"M- M- Mary- Woo!" he stood back up and wiped a tear from his eyes, "Okay, okay, let's do the armistice..."

England approached the group with a relieved smirk, "Well, I sure wish we hadn't destroyed both homes. It'll take forever to-"

The group had suddenly been interrupted by a massive shake, one that nearly knocked everyone off the ground. England's eyes had fired up in horror.

"Oh, God! Is Russia back!?"

This was a good question, but not the correct one to ask. All eyes had momentarily been brought back to America's _plane—_which he had previously restored to look like a popular spacecraft from one of his favorite American sci fi series.

Many jaws were dropped as America's contraption momentarily rose from the ground and proceeded to hover. England's jaw practically hit the floor as he gazed upon an actual floating spaceship.

"What the bloody Hell! That thing can actually fly!?"

America clenched his fists and shook them up and down rapidly, "Dude, no way! I can't believe my ship actually works!"

In unison, everyone replied, "Neither can I."

Through the cockpit of the floating ship, the answer had become apparent to America. He gasped happily and waved.

"No way! It's Tony! He turned my beautiful contraption into a functional spaceship!"

England turned his head, "Tony?"

"My alien friend!"

Everyone dipped their heads down and grunted, America finding this the least bit unusual. America grabbed England's hand and waved up at the cockpit swiftly.

"Beam us up, Ton' dawg!"

England widened his eyes, "B- beam us up? What does-"

And without a further second, both America and England had been zapped out of sight by a brief laser. And without further ado, the ship flew away from Korea. America and England had completed their mission—technically—and were now returning home. In a space ship...

The remaining three Asians were still staring up at the sky in amazement. China dropped his arms down with a quivering mouth.

"...they have a space ship..." he forced his head down in shame, "...communism's going to lose the space race, isn't it..?"

South Korea blinked a few times, then looked back at his house. Upon glancing over at it, a shingle had fallen off the roof, adding on to the ravaged household. He sighed, but then with a content smile, picked up his gardening tools and returned to his beloved garden.

To be continued...


End file.
